The Ghosts of Las Noches
by Pollux Unbound
Summary: Paranormal occurrences are haunting the ruins of Las Noches whose current inhabitants, Starrk, Halibel, Ulquiorra, Nnoitra, Grimmjow, and Szayel are being driven out of their wits. They decide it's about time to kidnap someone whom they believe is a paranormal specialist, Kurosaki Ichigo. Really. Problem solved.. Not. Harem/Ichigo Yaoi StarrkIchigo GrimmIchi
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own bleach

A/N: How the Espada in this fic survived the Winter War shall be explained along the way to the best of my ability, or lack thereof. That said, this may contain tons of loopholes because I am inconsistent and am liable to overlook a lot of details. The main pairing here is Starrk/Ichigo, but there will be others as well, mostly Yaoi. This is after all an Espada/Ichigo experimental crap.

…

Chapter One: Disturbance

Ichigo had been sure that two seconds after the Winter War the remnants of Aizen's army had completely forgotten his existence. This notion had followed some kind of a reality—until Cuatro Espada whom he believed he, or the Hollow inside him, had reduced to dusts showed up on his window, phrasing the stupidest things to ever come out of an Arrancar's mouth,

"There are ghosts in the palace and they're making us all demented."

First and fucking foremost, Hollows easily fell in the category of paranormal entities, which in a broader sense could be accounted for as ghosts. Secondly, everyone in Aizen's army had been either demented or a plain lunatic to start with. Third, if some form of a previously unknown existence was causing severe disturbance to the Espada survivors why should he, Kurosaki Ichigo of all fucking pricks, care, let alone lift a finger? Frankly, there was no end to this list. So Ulquiorra Cifer was taking this much trouble to state piles of rubbish because what?

"Screw you. I have my hands full with Quincy bastards and now you're here yapping about a fucking ghost infestation in your house? What are you, twelve?"

"You misunderstand me, Shinigami; this is a matter of grave urgency, of life and death."

Really, just why had those _two _blithering idiots brought this obsolete dingbat back to life? Ichigo had no time for participating in childish games, much less for horsing around with a former nemesis, but now he was finding himself doing both.

"Know what, Ulquiorra? I used to want you dead but now, for an entirely different reason, you're pretty much annoying the living shit out of me, not to mention wasting my goddamned time—"

Ichigo could not finish because out of nowhere someone had smothered him with a lethal-smelling handkerchief. As a result, he and his mystery assailant engaged into an unsightly struggle, which ultimately resulted to the Shinigami falling limp and unconscious on his back, straight into the arms of his attacker who happened to be Szayel Aporro Grantz.

"There wasn't a need for that. I told you I could handle him. And what is this substance you've used?" Ulquiorra reprimanded his companion.

"Metaldehyde. Regardless, if I hadn't interfered it would've taken you forever to reach an agreement, being the slowpoke that you are."

"Should we determine by Sonido who the slowpoke is?"

"That's not gonna be fair, Cuatro, because I'll be carrying Kurosaki all the way there. He's pretty heavy, mind you."

For a reason best known to himself, Ulquiorra found Szayel's grin disquieting. There must have been something mysterious in that feminine face because, as of the meantime, it seemed to be begging to be punched. Nevertheless, he argued,

"I will carry him, Octava. You are clumsy and slow."

"Who the hell died and made you boss?"

"Okay, let's be fair here. How long would it take us to be back at Las Noches?"

"More or less eight minutes. Your point?"

"You've been holding Kurosaki for four minutes now. But considering you wrestled with him earlier for approximately two minutes, that intimacy ought to amount to, say, a multiplier of maybe two for the stretch of time you've spent at it. My logic states you have so far spent a total of eight minutes with him—the same amount of time it would take us to be back where we belong. In short, hand him over to me _now _because it's my turn to hold him."

"Keep your shitty logic to yourself, Cuatro. I got him first—"

Ulquiorra had drawn himself within a foot of Szayel. There was a childish yank, an immature jolt in the chest, and before long the lifeless form of the teen was sagging over Cuatro's shoulder. Szayel had staggered backward due to the blow, with only his attractive, slender physique saving him from looking entirely like a loser. It would be difficult to describe what happened next, but suffice it to say the two Espada would reach Las Noches without further clashing.

…

Upon waking up, Ichigo unleashed his annoyance without any more constraint than if he had been permitted to wring every neck within sight.

"I have a fucking world to save, for fuck's sake! Who the hell gave you morons the authority to assume I'm a fucking paranormal quack?! Just who?!"

He was on a bed, surrounded by Primera, Tercera, Cuatro, Quinto, Sexta, Octava, Lilynette and the Fracciones Tesla Lindocruz. What would he give to be a fucking octopus right now, to be able to slap some sense into these eight people all at once?

"But it's getting out of hand! Dude, I can't even sleep at night, let alone shower in peace—can't you see this is driving me insane? One more day of this and I'm off my fucking rockers!" Grimmjow burst forth.

If someone like Sexta could get any crazier, Ichigo thought, there ought to be some new standard with which to measure crazies, to accommodate this guy's complex. That aside, Grimmjow's face seemed to have acquired a subtle sharpness over the last year and a half, making him more…handsome? Ichigo shook his head at the thought. In time, he said,

"That doesn't answer my question. Why me? Jesus. Can we, like, do something for a change here? Maybe think or start using our brains?"

The Arrancars stared at one another. The fact was, an unseen force had taken abode in the palace. At first, it was just your usual missing and misplaced objects, and so the Espada had chosen to take lightly of it, to the point of regarding it like some playful thing which could no more harm them than could Lilynette start acting like a lady. But then two weeks ago, things had started to get creepy. Starrk had been finding sloppily written notes on his bed, which read '_Let's sleep together, forever_'. He had suspected it had been Lilynette's doing, except for that one gaping loophole; the kid was illiterate and therefore could neither write nor read. And what was more, she was never the type to be sentimental. Primera wasn't alone in these bizarre experiences; Halibel of late had been finding herself sleepwalking in the unholiest of hours, ending up in places she was least likely to be in in the middle of the night. Szayel wasn't faring along any better either. Four times in the past week he had woken up to a chill creeping around his ankles. On the other hand, Grimmjow, who secretly kept a jaguar plushie in his closet, had been suspecting the stuffed animal to be capable of mobility. And so on. When all these inexplicabilities had continued to pile one atop another seemingly without end, the remaining Espada had decided it was about time for these to stop. Szayel, aka Mr. Know-it-all, was the one who had volunteered that all this had been a poltergeist's doing. None of his companions had heard of the word before, hence he had been forced to device a way to access what humans called the internet through his computers, after which he had allowed them to read article after article to their hearts' content. When all had been said and done, everyone had mutually agreed they needed a human because, surely, humans were more familiar with this sort of thing. Humans even had these peculiar professions like paranormal investigators, ghost hunters, clairvoyants. On that note, was Ichigo the best choice? That was the nagging question as of the moment. But all six Espada had answered simultaneously on that eventful council meeting. 'Kurosaki Ichigo' had been the name that had dislodged out of their throats at the same time. Why? God knew.

"We heard you could see ghosts much better than the average human." Szayel volunteered.

It was true, so true in fact he would not have batted an eye should an army of apparitions march across the room right now. Brushing past ghosts and ignoring them had been a daily part of his life for as long as he could remember. Deeming that to be a sufficient explanation, Ichigo heaved himself from the bed, slightly wobbling due to the chemical he had inhaled earlier.

Ulquiorra made a motion to support him. Wincing was the most considerate stunt he could pull in return. Just what was Ulquiorra thinking, acting like some chivalrous prince? But this courtesy would amount to nothing, because Starrk had rushed beside Ichigo and was now touching the underside of his arm, his palm gentle. It made Ichigo shiver, and this sensation had very little to do with the temperature.

"Can you stand?" Primera asked, his eyes penetrating, to which Ichigo reddened.

"Yeah, why not?" Ichigo dismissed, still feeling dazed.

"Damn you, Szayel. What the hell did you give him?" Starrk turned to Octava.

"Just a little subduing something, ignorant fool."

"I said no sick tricks, dumbass. What if—"

"—Did you think I'd do a shit to hurt him? Do your homework, shithead—"

"—Starrk's right." Grimmjow cut Szayel's voice. Presently, the idea occurred to Grimmjow that he could not allow these two to act all possessive over the visitor… as if they _owned _him. Oh, no, not gonna fucking happen. He snarled, "Who the fuck gave you the permission to use your shitty laboratory products on him?"

"Metaldehyde is human-made; any moron knows that. Besides, it merely made him drowsy, didn't it, Ichigo-chan?"

"Don't call him that, Szayel. You're not in good terms with Kurosaki." Ulquiorra warned.

"And you are?"

"He and I had numerous engagements in the past, most notable among these was the one carried out less than two years ago in the throne room, you dunce."

"Where you got killed. Is this a sad case of short-term memory loss?" Szayel was grinning ever so triumphantly. Affronted by the naked truth, Cuatro could only shrug.

And now none of this was fascinating any longer. Were these jerks fighting over him? If this should continue no doubt he would go nuts before he ever managed to discover what exactly he was here for.

"Starrk, get your paws off Kurosaki, for crying out loud." Grimmjow barked at Primera. Sexta's tone of voice, and nothing else, caused Starrk's hand to drop at his side.

"Idiot. Continue being irritable like that and you'll know what a wolf pack can do to a jaguar."

"A pack, huh? Since when did Mr. Loneliness Incarnate get a hold of friends?" Grimmjow's mocking words affected Starrk like a gag order, because now Primera was looking like something had got stuck in his windpipe.

"My bet is on Primera." Quinto spoke for the first time.

"No one asked for your opinion, horseteeth."

The empty threats continued in the background, and all they did was to exasperate the poor Shinigami. If there was a way to quell his annoyance now, he was sure it would take much more than just cutting the tongues out of these dudes. Just then, Tercera approached him,

"So, Kurosaki-kun, it is my understanding that you can detect paranormal activities."

Ichigo examined her from head to toe, until he realized he was gaping at her. Aside from Orihime and Matsumoto, never before had he seen a woman so full in the chest. Tia Halibel fell nothing short of ridiculously attractive, notwithstanding that her collars were covering her face more than halfway down. Thank heavens more than half the boobs were visible…

"As a matter of fact, yeah."

"Will you take a minute to read the unwelcome presences in the palace. Let's take advantage of these idiots' distraction." She referred to the strife going about between the five formidable males before them.

Because her civil, yet altogether entrancing, conduct rendered her impossible to refuse, Ichigo nodded. What infinite consequences were entailed in that tiny gesture he would not have the slightest idea for a very long time. As a result, he found himself straining his sixth sense, reading any stirrings within their vicinity and beyond.

But what was this feeling?

It wasn't a ghost at all, not even close. Ghosts were mostly spirits of the departed who, by some force or another, were made to linger on in the material world. That served to tell they weren't much to be feared. They were capable of menace, of petty malicious undertakings but, for the most part, they had once been humans. Pesky mundane beings. This, the thing that was currently roaming around Las Noches, however was something else, something that had never, in the course of its existence, inherently owned a human body. Having deduced as little, or as much, he decided these Espada dudes weren't pulling his leg, nor were they simply making excuses to win his intimacy—as at least half of them had demonstrated they had these huge territorial complex/something for him. Indeed, these warriors needed help, badly.

"Sorry to disappoint, guys, but we're not dealing with a poltergeist." Ichigo announced, lulling the activities in the room and momentarily suspending the animosity emanating from the male Arrancars.

"What is it?" The Espada asked in unison.

He drew himself up in a way which made his posture impressionable. Sighing deep, he said,

"Something else—something infinitely more dangerous than a ghost. In the human world, we like to call them demons."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This is sort of inspired by the film The Conjuring, which goes to say this whole thing is devoid of originality.

Chapter Two: Infestation

This was rest-assured way beyond the degree of his experiences. Without having to understand more, Ichigo knew he was ready to give up without even trying to help. In the course of his life, he had had his fair share of paranormal encounters, had found himself in many strange situations. But never had he ever dealt with something this…bad. To start with, this entity did not owe its nature to some prior existence; this thing had been roaming the soil since time immemorial, long before humans had started to exist—or so the books said.

"Listen; I have always made it a point to do something nice for a set of people at least once a day. Sadly, this is not your day. However, you might wanna hear what little knowledge I have of this. You can start with the questions now." Ichigo apologized.

Szayel and Lilynette shivered perceptibly. Consorting with these fiends was the last thing Ichigo had in mind, and yet looking at them, as if feeling their terror, he could not help but adapt some kind of commiseration. And then Ulquiorra stepped forward,

"Kurosaki, every time just before dawn at exactly 3 a.m. on my wall clock, I hear tapping sounds against my bedroom door, continuously for maybe an hour. They come in threes, no more no less. I have no idea what it means but I'm sure it means something."

It was the Shinigami's turn to shiver. In the past, he had watched a number of horror flicks, and the ones that had indelibly latched themselves in his brain were those which had involved demonic possessions. Whether he cared to admit it or not, these films had scared the living shit out of him. If they had been all about nasty specters and apparitions none of them would have warranted sleepless nights. For obvious reasons, he was alone in this reflection, as there was no way these Arrancars would have gained access to this lore. Nevertheless he heard himself asking thus,

"Ulquiorra, do you know what a religion is?"

"Yes, it's this ritualistic practice humans subscribe to, just so to avail themselves of what you might call paradise."

"You're about half right. In the human world, Christianity is one of the most prevalent religions. I don't know much, since I myself do not practice it, except that the Christians hold the middle of the day—that is 3 p.m. in the afternoon—most holy. I am impelled to conclude that an evil force, the sole assailant of Christianity itself, is endeavoring to prove something by professing itself at the exact opposite of that sacred hour, 3 a.m.. To put it bluntly, you guys are in deep shit."

Tesla and Halibel held themselves tightly. It was easy to tell horror, or at least what felt like it, had conveyed itself through the Shinigami's short narrative. And so Starrk surreptitiously strode closer to Ichigo, perhaps fancying his sneaky behavior unobserved when he loomed about six fucking feet and one inch in height. At that, Grimmjow closed in behind them, his breath hissing at the back of Ichigo's neck. He was too close for comfort and, as chance would have it, he was heard hissing,

"Keep your distance, Wolf. That's a first warning."

"You're one to talk." Starrk retorted.

A wave of frustration washed over the Shinigami. If truth be told, it wasn't what one might call being a petulant bastard; it was called being fucking realistic. This wasn't a convenient time to act like a middle-schooler and yet these dimwits appeared to have woken up this morning to all at once decide it was high time to be immature for life. And then all of sudden, Halibel swooned. Within seconds, hysterics seized Szayel,

"My god! She's at it again!" The mad scientist was looking as mad as any scientist could go.

Jiruga lunged forward at her but, because Ichigo had been standing behind her all this time, the shinigami managed to intercept her first before she could land on the hard floor. Holding her in her arms seemed to give Ichigo a warm feeling. Except that Tercera's eyes were wide open, this pretty much looked like a mild case of dehydration. At any rate, Ichigo heaved her up and was now carrying her off her feet.

"Hand her to me, Kurosaki." Starrk, Ulquiorra and Grimmjow declared at the same time, in the same apprehensive intonation. Surprised at their own impulses, the three glared at one another before their postures loosened up.

"Oh, be my guest, Starrk." Grimmjow said as if changing his mind, surrendering both his palms up the air.

"Nah. She's yours."

"You offered first, prat."

"Maybe Ulquiorra here will take care of her."

"I've just remembered she's taller than me and perhaps heavier. I don't wish to drop her accidentally."

Ichigo had started the day with a pocketful of patience, but not surprisingly both his pockets were empty now. In this occasion, the most logical thing to do was to ignore the three imbeciles because that seemed to be the only action that suited his temper. In his mind, he was damned well wishing these three wouldn't spurt out the precise reason why they so wanted Tercera Espada out of his arms. Thankfully, there was a savior,

"Over here, Shinigami. I know where her room is." Jiruga offered.

"Fine. But will you do me a favor? Can you stay with her until she regains consciousness? Just call us out if anything out of the ordinary happens." Ichigo instructed, delegating the woman to the tallest man in the room.

When they had gone, Tesla turned to his heels to trail his master. Apart from everyone, Octava was pacing to and fro like a woman distraught.

"Grantz, calm the fuck down." Grimmjow spat.

"Can't you see what this means? Gosh, sometimes I wish I were surrounded by people who at least read books!"

"The hell are you yapping about this time?" Starrk asked.

Szayel swept past his fellow Arrancar, only to pull his brakes right in front of the Shinigami. In one swift motion his arms were thrown around Ichigo's shoulders. If Octava wasn't going to sob in the next two seconds, Ichigo was sure some deeper form of agitation was well underway. Maybe the dude was off to jump over the window.

"This is demonic possession!" Octava concluded, the term only serving to render everyone else frantic.

"Octava, if you don't let go of the kid I'm gonna rip you a new ass!" Grimmjow had assumed his warrior stance.

But Ichigo grabbed Szayel by the shoulders in an attempt to make the dude get a hold of himself, speaking seriously though softly,

"Szayel-san, how can you be so sure of that?"

"Tercera has been walking into my quarters in the middle of the night…"

"I knew it. You two are having a dalliance. Quinto will snap your spinal column in half." Starrk concluded.

"Not that, you simpleton. You know, there was this one time when I tried to shake her awake. But she just turned slowly away, eyes closed, paying me no heed. Last night, however, I tried to snap her out of it with more force than usual… and she spoke, in a man's voice! I almost passed out of shock! In the morning she assured me she couldn't remember any of it! I couldn't yap about it openly because Jiruga would no doubt go psychotic with jealousy."

This was worse than Ichigo had initially believed. He was prepared to assume a malevolent, utterly insidious, preternatural entity was wreaking havoc in the palace. What he hadn't cared to realize was, this being was intent on gaining dominion over the inhabitants of this place. Although he was entirely clueless as to the accuracy of the facts presented in this horror film he had recently watched, Ichigo deduced it would be okay to use them as the premise to his philosophy, which he now began to explain,

"From what I can remember, there are three stages of demonic possession; Infestation, Oppression, and finally Possession. You guys have been saying there have been a number of funny and hard to explain stuff going on around here."

"Tell me about it, man. Cub-chan has been walkin'…" Grimmjow's sentence dangled unfinished in an unseen passage in his throat.

"Who is Cub-chan, if I may inquire?" Cuatro said.

"No matter. The point is, some of my fucking plushi—stuff—have been finding themselves in places they shouldn't be."

"That falls under Infestation." Ichigo concluded.

"And my not getting a moment's rest at night? How do you classify that, Kurosaki?" Cuatro asked.

"Maybe Oppression."

"So Halibel's got the worst of it." Starrk reflected. Ichigo, anxious to hear what specific torment everyone of them had to endure, felt slightly disappointed when Primera had opted to steer the subject to Tercera. The Shinigami answered,

"Arracars are technically ghosts, as far as I know. I'm not really so sure if demons are capable of using spirits/ghosts as hosts."

Silence fell on them, allowing them to pursue their separate thoughts in the matter. Indeed, it was forcing the Shinigami to think as deliberately as he had never been in the habit of doing. These people weren't his friends, but heaven knew they didn't deserve this, not now. All the same, the best, and perhaps the only, solution to this was to get a human priest. There could be no other choice. Even Urahara himself would grope around like a blind kid in a spelling bee in this situation. But then a lot of complications would arise from that. He could bet his soul not one of these Arrancars had been baptized therefore no priest in his right mind would agree to help these dudes. And that was looking past the fact that not one of them was human, so he might as well expect this predicament to untangle itself on its own… or not.

"Ichigo-chan, what are we going to do?"

"I said no first name basis, Grantz." Cuatro warned for the second time.

Ignoring Ulquiorra, the Shinigami presided, holding his breath and not really believing the depth of the abyss he was dragging himself into,

"This is gonna sound stupid, but for now there's no better action to take than to fetch a few religious articles and some paranormal investigation paraphernalia from the human world."

"I'll do it." Cuatro and Sexta volunteered in unison, not really having the least of idea as to what sort of items they were supposed to acquire.

Ichigo had to stop himself from snorting. Grimmjow and Ulquiorra getting their hands on a stack of bibles and holy water? My, that had to be worth a million bucks. He'd slit his own throat if neither of these two burst into flames if they so much as landed one glance on a holy cross. But, because the pair was obviously trying to impress him, he conceded. Before long, he was scribbling on a piece of paper the names of the objects and the places where they could be found.

"What do these stuff look like anyway?" Grimmjow asked.

"Geez, do I have to paint a damn picture or write an entire encyclopedia for you?" Nevertheless, the Shinigami went on to employ what talent in art he was endowed with.

…

The room in which he was sleeping was bare, with hardly any color besides white and gray. Ulquiorra and Grimmjow had yet to emerge from the Gargantua. It was thirty minutes past midnight but not that, nor the disturbing stillness of the night, was responsible for keeping him awake. In fact he was wondering how many minutes he had left before a disturber of peace would walk through the door and decide it would be fun to demolish the silence. Sure enough, screams could be heard from down the hallway, growing closer and closer and more hysterical. From where he was, Ichigo figured that the screaming dude, no doubt one of the male Espada, was running like his life depended on it. Well, whoever he was, his life should better depend on his running because, if not, Ichigo swore he would fucking strangle the dude for the racket he was making.

"The fuck is going on?" He muttered to himself, sitting up, just in time for his door to fly open, violently. Indeed, the damned panels were nearly shaken off their hinges.

It was Primera Espada.

Strands of hair sticking out from every direction, his eyes wide, bewildered, he swiped across the room and onto Ichigo's bed. The Shinigami hardly had the time to recognize the man. But recognizing the man was the least of his problems now, because Starrk had now wrapped an arm around his waist and was crouched behind him, as if shielding himself from something. The feel of his arm sent spikes of chill down Ichigo's spine. It didn't end there; Primera was burying his face at the back of his shoulder.

"S—some chick is in my room; on the freaking floor! S—she says she'll take me away!"

"Floor?"

"Yeah, well, I sleep on the floor 'cos Lilynette gets the bed."

"Where is Lilynette? Don't tell me you've left her."

"She—well, the chick isn't after her."

"Starrk, you should lock your door always at night." Ichigo said sternly, trying to contain himself as his heart beat in and out of his ribcage.

"There's no use in that! She ain't anything like me and you! She's pure nightmare. I can't explain; I just know she ain't normal. She says her name is Lilith."

The name sent shocks of coldness on his back. Surely, countless legends and tales had included the name in their narratives, and not one of them yielding anything favorable on account of the entity who owned it. In conclusion, Starrk was being assailed by a Succubus. As far as the teen could remember, it had taken four captain-level individuals to take this Espada down during the Winter War, after which he had been pronounced dead. In reality, Captain Kyouraku's magnanimity had extended to sparing Starrk's life. Three days following the fatal blow he had received, the Primera Espada had regained consciousness, and thereupon had promised never to antagonize Soul Society ever again. But now his strength could do nothing against what was plaguing him.

Without meaning to do it, Ichigo found himself turning around, to wrap both his arms around the trembling Primera Espada. Perhaps Kurosaki Ichigo simply meant to console this man, but when his warmth began to channel through the other, that was when it occurred to him that Coyote Starrk was—apart from terrified—lonely beyond redemption.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Manifestation

The clang of multiple objects hitting the floor reached their ears before they had time to disengage themselves from one another. Upon turning to look, Ichigo saw that Ulquiorra was frozen at the doorway, his arms laden with any number of paper bags. Grimmjow, on the other hand, had dropped everything he was supposed to be carrying, so now objects which had no business lying disorderly on the floor were scattered at his feet. The sight scandalized Ichigo. Although he had never in his life had a profound sense of piety, the sight of bibles and rosaries on the floor left him a strange feeling of discomfiture.

"For the service I've rendered you this is what I get, Kurosaki?! Aargh. I've just been to a church, pretending to be holy and shit, for fuck's sake! And then I find you in bed, with this prick of all fucking assholes!"

Beginning to describe how beside himself Grimmjow was would be quite an impossibility. He wrung his hair, and his movements grew more coarse as one idea occurred to him after another. Conversely, Ulquiorra held himself erect. A closer look, however, would reveal how flustered he also was. Ichigo spoke in defense of Starrk and himself,

"Grimmjow, get a fucking hold of yourself. Your fellow Espada was distressed, extremely—"

"—and I'm not?! I can just quit breathing here and now, for your info!"

"Might I calm Coyote Starrk myself? I can make it so that he won't be bothering you ever..._forever_." Ulquiorra butted in. No one knew what good this question served, with of course the possible exception of himself.

By this time, Ichigo's tolerance for lack of logic was running low, but somehow he felt like he wasn't entitled to be severe. All the same, his priority as of the moment appeared to be to express himself without stuffing his knuckles in Grimmjow's or Ulquiorra's mouth. When it came down to it, none of this was his fault, hence he stood up, approached Sexta, and started gathering the religious articles on the floor. While at it, he found himself explaining things he wasn't required to,

"Primera was assaulted by a very potent demon in his room. I only meant to calm him down; nothing more."

Upon standing up, he faced Sexta at eye level. But Grimmjow's murderous glare at Starrk did not waver for half a second.

"That should better be the fucking case, Shinigami; else this dude is an assassination-in-progress." Sexta marched away at that in banging treads, leaving Ichigo delegating his attention to Ulquiorra.

"Ulquiorra, let me relieve you of those."

"I'll station them myself, thank you very much." Cuatro declined before going on to set the bags down with care, right on the bed where Starrk sat. In a low voice, Ulquiorra cautioned, "Just so you know, Primera, I have the ability to resuscitate people from near-death state, which means I can choke the life out of you, revive you, and then choke you again to death. Repeat the process and you get my drift."

"Look, can we all agree to be done with death threats?" Ichigo proposed in frustration, just in time to intercept whatever it was that Starrk was about to say.

"Certainly." With a parting nod, Ulquiorra glided out of the room.

Alone again with the man with whom he seemed to have formed a subtle but nevertheless enduring connection, Ichigo recommended,

"You better spend the night in another room. Don't forget to take Lilynette with you and to instruct her to wake you up if she ever hears you making funny sounds in your sleep. And, oh, take some of these."

Ichigo obtained from one of the bags a rosary, a wooden holy cross, a bible, and a vial of holy water. He peppered Starrk with instructions which basically amounted to keeping these objects as close to him as possible at all times. As for Starrk, he simply desired to stay a bit longer or to freeze time right this instant. But since Ichigo had made it clear neither of these was possible, he contented himself with a fleeting glance at the teen before wheeling around to finally disappear.

…

In the morning after in the meeting hall, Ichigo presumed it would be best to steer clear of Starrk to maybe blur what intimacy had transpired between them last night. Upon finding the teen sitting three chairs away from Primera, Grimmjow could not help the smirk crossing his face. To amplify his sense of triumph, he sat right next to the Shinigami, who proceeded,

"Each of you will take a set of these articles with you. You will station them in your rooms and secure a rosary in your pocket at all times."

The idea was to adapt the suggested remedy as prescribed by religious doctrines. There was no absolute guarantee that these mundane objects had the power to repel so insidious a force, especially when not one of these people could make out what these bizarre pieces represented. But this seemed to be the only arsenal they had in possession. While the Arrancars, aside from Starrk who had availed himself with the items in the night prior, examined the things with curiosity, Ichigo inspected Tercera Espada from afar. She was paler than he remembered her and detached rather than nonchalant. Indeed, her listlessness was perturbing. He was shaken off his musings when a series of impatient knocks shot through the room.

"Who the fuck might that be?" Quinto mumbled irritably.

"Must be some stray Adjuchas… wait, I'm reading zero reiatsu. How about you?" Szayel asked, his eyes shifting from one head after another.

"Same here."

"Not a damned thing."

"Nada."

"Negative." Ichigo said, grabbing the hilt of his Zanpakotou warily.

The questions forming in each and everyone's head came to be answered when the door opened with an eerie, slow creaking. At last the door opened. The spectacle revealed a maimed, utterly disfigured stuffed animal that looked like it had seen better days. Standing right beneath the door frame, unmoving, its fur stained with mysterious substances, it was as spine-chilling a sight like no other. It was a tiger, or something similar, whose plastic eyes had been gouged, leaving the one on the left hanging by a few strands of thread, the other one missing. There were lacerations in random places, as if the thing had been clawed in anger.

"Who the fuck thought this prank is funny?! Show yer fucking self!" Grimmjow exploded, rising to his feet. His fury was about to reach the point when he would dart at the thing at the door when Ichigo grabbed him by the wrist. But before the teen could speak, Lilynette spoke merrily,

"Cub-chan has come to join us. But who beat the crap out of him?"

Everyone turned to look at Grimmjow, who was now looking daggers at Lilynette. Lilynette had lately gone into the habit of nosing into people's businesses, and in so being that she had come to discover that Grimmjow had this quirk of keeping plushies in his bedroom. One of his stuffed animals, his favorite one in fact, had been bestowed the name Cub-chan. It was Ulquiorra who first shot a guess,

"That's the Cub-chan you mentioned yesterday, Sexta?"

"Shut up."

"I never knew you had such an affinity toward childishness."

"I said, shut the hell up, Quinto."

"Well, that explains why you comport yourself like an irksome retard one hundred percent of the time." Octava observed.

"What is wrong with you, bastards? When I say 'shut yer trap' it most likely means you better quit annoying me shitless!"

"Grimmjow, sit down, please." Ichigo commanded finally. He had thought that tightening his grip around Sexta's wrist would do the trick but he only was half right. Having determined that Grimmjow would flatly refuse to budge an inch, Ichigo stood up, brought his face close to the Espada to get his attention. He continued, "Did you do that to him?"

"Her." Grimmjow corrected.

"Did you do that to _her_?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"She was annoying me shitless so I stuffed her in the trash." Grimmjow was smart enough to gauge that what he was saying was making him sound like he had had more than his fair share of crazies. Indeed, that notion made him spare a number of details, hence his brief replies.

"How?"

"How did she annoy me? I've caught her several times watching me in the shower and standing over me while I slept… damn, you all think I'm mental now, don't you?"

Grimmjow had just spoken the exact thought in everyone's mind. Really, the Arrancars around the table, rendered thus speechless, were staring at him blankly, instead of scornfully. However, out of all the perplexed gazes he was receiving, not the least unsettling was Ichigo's. To be sure, the next thing Sexta was to hear would stun him like a damn electric shock,

"Grimmjow, you've just about angered an evil entity in the worst possible way you could have. No one's pulling a prank here, as you might have figured out already…I can detect an entity acting behind Cub-chan."

"Well, shit. How in hell could I have improved my situation, when this creepy shit wouldn't stop terrorizing me? I knew on the onset that some other thing was taking over Cub-chan but I couldn't make it fuck off. So I threw her away, but not before mutilating her. And then this happened."

To Grimmjow's credit, the mere fact that the thing controlling Cub-chan was taking too much pleasure in wreaking terror made Ichigo want to scoop the oversized plushie, stick it on the wall and throw knives at it. But that would veritably make matters worse. Because he had no immediate desire to set hell loose, Ichigo bolted upright and turned to Octava,

"Szayel-san, can I use your computer room?"

"Sure. Right this way."

"I'll go with you." Sexta announced.

Grimmjow followed suit, the three of them brushing past Cub-chan, with Sexta taking special care to avoid his previously loved stuffed toy, which he now regarded with aversion. However, before reaching a considerable distance away from the meeting hall, Ichigo wheeled around, to head back to where Cub-chan was stationed. He then poked his head back to the room and requested,

"Starrk, or anyone of you guys except Halibel-san, can you secure Cub-chan in a safe room? Enclose her in chest or something, if possible."

…

In Szayel's laboratory, Ichigo, so absorbed with the webpage before his eyes, was boring Sexta and Octava out of their minds. In due time, Szayel excused himself and tucked himself on his bed next door.

"Grimmjow, I expect you know by now that Cub-chan is being manipulated by an inhuman spirit."

"Hell. For, like, donkey days now."

"Good, but there's one thing you have to also know. Cub-chan's not possessed because these things don't possess inanimate objects. She merely is a vessel"

"Vessel for what?"

"Whatever this being is, it's most likely using Cub-chan as a stepping stone, which goes to say its final goal, in all likelihood, is to possess…you." Ichigo's last word was emphasized with a stony gaze.

Sexta opened and closed his mouth in repetition, while a part of his mind busied itself with some frivolity which could potentially make his situation appear less terrible. He asked just then,

"Are you fucking sure? I mean, it ain't so surprising 'cos I'm guessing 99% of those who've laid eyes on me wish to swap bodies with me, but…" He faltered, upon deducing Ichigo was groping for answers as much as he was now.

Soon, the need to speak further vanished, whereas the teen had swiveled his head back to face the monitor. In that action was Grimmjow seized with an overwhelming desire. Truly, the back of Ichigo's neck was like an invitation to something carnal. Maybe this opportunity was presenting itself for a reason. Indeed, not in a millions years would he have passed on this chance. Sure enough, Sexta placed both his palms on the computer table on both sides of the teen, thereby caging the latter between his arms. His face descended toward one side of Ichigo's head, bringing about a feeling that was only a little less chilling than when Cub-chan had appeared before them. When Ichigo came to partially read what his companion was trying to pull, he reminded,

"Grimmjow, you're too near."

"Not as near as Starrk was to you last night."

"I thought I've made it clear I was only trying to placate him."

"Well, I maybe am in dire need of placating. Cub-chan creeps the hell out of me and I shit you not. I know nothing about this thing that's menacing me, and it would be a comfort to get some downtime once in a while. So comfort me just this fucking once, Shinigami." While saying this, Sexta's lips brushed against the tip of Ichigo's ear.

And when he turned his head slightly around toward Grimmjow's face, Ichigo found that he had to catch his breath at how handsome this dude was up close. From a distance, Sexta had always been entrancing, but now, in this proximity where he was at perfect liberty to scrutinize the face, he was being beset by an attraction against which he could not rebel. What better way to express this admiration than to allow himself to be captivated? That the Shinigami did by not resisting the lips which had started caressing the skin at the side of his neck.

In that momentous space in time, it struck Ichigo Kurosaki that he could resist anything, except this specific temptation which was being offered by Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Oppression

During the last time he had encountered Grimmjow, the two of them had been crossing swords, each quite intent on cutting the life out of each other. Right now, what was taking place amounted to the complete opposite of just that. Worse still, he could not tell which of these two experiences presented more complications.

"I'll be damned. I leave you for five minutes and this is what happens." Octava's voice shot through the room.

Unless Ichigo was mistaken, Sexta was taking the intrusion as some source of excitement and, to prove just that, he was heard answering,

"Privacy, if you please."

"Screw you. Get away from him."

"Grantz, order me around again and you better run like your fucking life depends on it, because it probably does."

Ichigo had now begun suspecting how this encounter would end, if it ever would. For one thing, he could just chuck his aspirations of peace, perhaps because Szayel had by now produced from his pocket a miniature Grimmjow plushie and had begun to explain the specific atrocities it could do to Sexta's innards. Having endured enough, Ichigo resolved to escape from Grimmjow's arms and to smack some sense into these dudes, just in time for another foreign voice to come on to them like a flash,

"Your arms are all on the wrong places, Sexta. Might I be permitted to rip them off? They seem to be incapable of doing anything right anyway."

It was Starrk. At this point, things turned out as Ichigo had thought they very much well might; much worse than how they had started. To his temporary relief, though, Grimmjow went on to stuff both his fists back in his pockets where they usually belonged. As of now, however, Ichigo was hell-bent on caring nothing for what these three might or might not think of him, so with indifference he proceeded to print a few copies of the article he had been perusing, ignoring the bickering as much as he could.

"Know what, fucking Primera? What I do with my arms is my fucking business so, unless you're my fucking bra, get off my tits." Sexta was saying.

Ichigo was now collecting the printouts. If truth be told, he wasn't really quite disposed to overlooking the injurious threats the Espada were flinging at one another but, according to his own logic, the priority now was to extricate himself from further frustration.

"I'm off. Lemme know, guys, if you're all done being neurotic." The Shinigami announced, walking past Primera Espada.

Their gazes collided for a moment, and in that passage of mutual understanding a set of dimly felt emotions surged over him. Inwardly a number of expletives gulfed across his head. One would naturally suppose he could not keep his mind off Starrk any more than he could forget his own birthday.

…

In the privacy of his borrowed quarters, he educated himself with literature concerning demonology. It mostly came hand in hand with a number of religions, hence there his weaknesses lay; religion had played no role in his life, and lesser still had it had any impact on him… until now. From what he could tell, the topic of demonic possession had been exploited in every possible context, and, in so being that, it was difficult to tell which articles pertaining to it were reliable and accurate. One thing remained consistent in the texts, though; the demons' most potent adversary was Christian belief. This subsequently meant the Arrancars in Las Noches were way beyond saving. On the bright side, he could help them in he shallower aspects of their dilemma, particularly in cases which concerned the use of religious articles as protection. In other words, he was useful only within the limitations which confined his lack of religious beliefs. There was no way to pretend and act around like an ordained priest and to take matters into his inexperienced hands.

He thought of Starrk, whom he believed was in great danger. Succubi were nasty things, and he had to wonder up to what extents should Christian articles do their job of repelling a foe such as the queen among these creatures. Grimmjow's situation wasn't giving his mind any reprieve either. The fact that Sexta had retaliated severely against the entity was one huge problem. For all Ichigo knew, Grimmjow had just opened a fertile ground on which the demon could wreak its sinister enterprises. His imagination meandered off to each and every Arrancar in the palace.

But the day drew on desultorily, and it wouldn't be until the evening of another day would he come upon something ghastly.

…

He had become accustomed to the regular disturbances occurring in the corridors and he now looked upon them as tolerable, even commonplace. As of the present, the nightly inspection of hallways was yielding very little results. Ichigo was in the very least thankful for that. But this complacency would evaporate as soon as he reached the corridor were Szayel Apollo Grantz's bedroom door was located. His nerves, always of the strongest, were beginning to jangle. Without having to labor for any indication of a malevolent presence, Ichigo was being raided by a series of uproarious readings. Just what the fuck was happening inside Octava's room? He pressed one ear against the door, only to be greeted by silence. A longer inspection, however, proved to be effective, for now sobs could be picked up from the other side of the wall. Hesitation vanished right on the spot. After kicking the door open, he swept past pieces of furniture and into Octava's bed chamber. In there, the curled figure of Szayel was snuggled into a corner. Some beast must have harassed the Espada, whose pajamas had been torn to shreds, exposing quite an expanse of skin on his legs. He had very attractive limbs, like a woman's to be precise.

"Hey, what the hell happened?" Ichigo had dropped to one knee and had raised Szayel's face with the tip of his fingers. It was like a scene from a fucking movie where a knight in shining armor had rescued a damsel. Frankly, the reality wasn't faring too far from that.

Instead of an audible answer, all he received was a shaky finger which pointed to a square opening on the floor. There was a basement in Octava's room. Despite the moonlight, the darkness beyond the edge of the hole had a presentiment of evil, as far as his observation went. At length, the Espada spoke, shakily,

"S—some unseen attacker dragged me in there. I barely made it out in time before I got shut in! Good thing I used Sonido."

"Are you absolutely certain you haven't been sleepwalking?"

"Dude, it hasn't been doing things the subtle way to start with! First my blanket got tugged away aggressively. And then the pillows were brutally jerked from my head. As if that wasn't enough, my feet went next. I couldn't scream for the life of me! I'm not Starrk, which means that kind of sadism would've stirred me completely awake on any given night!"

"How long has this been going on?"

"F—for a while now. Weeks. In the beginning the assaults didn't go past rocking my bed gently, and then it evolved to things utterly vicious. Oh, Ichigo-chan, what would become of this room?"

Ichigo was frequently most contented when things were changing the least, rather than when they were developing into something else. So when a draft issued from the basement's passage, carrying an ominous hiss, total unease nearly devoured him whole. The sound carried with it a certain inhumanity, the kind which would've sent strands of hair standing on end.

"We need to get out of here."

They fled the room and tucked themselves as far away from Octava's quarters as possible. Upon reaching Yammy's old chamber, which was now gathering dust, Ichigo gestured at Octava to sit on the bed.

"I used to keep my equipments there." Szayel started reluctantly, as if he detested admittance of every kind. He resumed, "Through the years, my equipments got smaller and smaller due to technological advancements. It was only a matter of time before a number of them became obsolete. It seemed impractical to throw them away so I resorted to just store them in the basement, to lay there untouched. Honestly, I have long ago forgotten about them so it didn't take me second thoughts to decide to re-floor my room with granite tiles, a procedure which utterly barred access to that accursed basement. And now it has reopened. Who did it and why, I have not the slightest idea."

"I was patrolling corridors when I found you. Believe me, I never meant to kick down your door, but I sensed something agitating inside your room. It was like a dark brooding mass of menace, danger—indeed of everything harmful. You know, where I grew up it is said that rooms ought to be utilized regularly, otherwise they'd be liable to invite stray spirits and other unseen entities to inhabit them. I have no intentions of terrifying you but it looks like we've all gone beyond terrified."

Grantz was sweating profusely, his hair in every bit in disarray. As for Ichigo, he had illustrated the brighter rather than the darker side of the story. On the whole, there was no use in running away, because the entity had made it apparent it wished to seize Octava Espada entirely, and would stop at nothing in order to succeed. Strangely, though, he began to fancy he had it in him to at least relieve this strikingly beautiful Arrancar of his present anxiety. And why not? He was upset beyond description, to the point that successfully comforting him would be impossible to even attempt. Just like that, Ichigo rose to his feet and drew himself within an arm's length of Szayel, who now muttered bitterly,

"They say I'm made of pure madness. If they only knew what's driving me nuts at the moment, they'd look at me in awe for managing to stay sane under these circumstances."

"Of course, you're not mad. You're just, er, a little eccentric."

"You think so?" Szayel asked longingly. Without waiting for an answer, he leaned his forehead toward Ichigo's abs.

The teen did not move a muscle. In that action, or inaction, was it revealed to him that life would've been safer to experience if he had not cared for things he shouldn't have cared about. Right now, that reasoning was fleeing entirely. He had heard from Renji and Ishida that Octava Espada was the worst, most cruel enemy one could conceivably face. Both insisted that this claim owed itself to the perverted jungle of shit Octava had for a mind. In fact, Renji could not utter Szayel's name without ever shuddering. It hadn't been long before Ichigo had ceased to doubt anything upon the matter. So when Commander Kyouraku had ordered the release of Octava from Captain Kurotsuchi's equally perverse basement chamber, it had taken all of Renji's constitution to refrain from unleashing a middle finger on the newly appointed commander. As for Uryuu Ishida, betraying Soul Society for that one glorious blunder had been playing around the recesses of his mind since then. Maybe he would do just that.

"_Abarai, who the hell voted for that hentai to be your next commander?" Ishida had snarled at Renji._

"_Don't look at me! If I had a pocketful of fucking votes I wouldn't spare a single one for a fucking someone who's off to pardon that perverted shitty little flamingo! Argh. My life is ruined!" Renji had answered. _

Nevertheless, Octava, for more than a year, had suffered the worst possible fate one could have availed himself. Mayuri Kurotsuchi was a fiend, and Szayel had had to experience the degree of the captain's perversities first hand. With all these details taken into careful account, Ichigo could not help feeling sorry for the androgynous dude. He planted one knee on the edge of the bed, right next to Octava's left thigh. Believing himself at perfect liberty to do as he pleased, the teen pulled the Espada's head closer to him. Indeed, there seemed to be an odd emotion plaguing him presently, which showed itself for the most part by his subtle movements, which were nevertheless forthcoming. Why was he holding this sick bastard as a man should hold a woman? Surely, Octava looked every bit like a runway model, except for that one glaring self-evident fact; he was a dude. But right now Ichigo was feeling more of a man than ever. Indeed like a virile savior and a protector. They were as close to each other as any pair of lovers could get.

Holding the Espada close to him, all the while trying to expel from his imagination all the madness, the irrationalities which so often had defined Octava's actions, Kurosaki Ichigo realized that all he wanted at the moment was to protect the vulnerable Szayel Apollo Grantz, to shield him from the miseries and the evil threats of the world.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Possession

Making every allowance for moderation, Ichigo caressingly stroked the pink hair which drooped just beneath his chin. The moon was bright enough to read a novel by, granting him every liberty to assess his current circumstances. Meanwhile, he could feel the side of his legs against the nakedness of Octava's thigh. The whole of this almost looked like a vulgarity. And, sure enough, someone had arrived to express just that, in plain equally vulgar words,

"Those are gorgeous legs, Octava. Since you so want them constantly spread, allow me to rip them apart permanently. In other words, get your filthy hands off the kid."

Who else could it have been other than he who possessed the filthiest mouth in the whole of Hueco Mundo? The look on Grimmjow's face implied more than your usual amount of hostility. To further that, he already had one hand on the hilt of his Zanpakotou. But it wasn't Grimmjow's nearly palpable fury that made Ichigo pull away from Szayel; it was Starrk, who was flanking Sexta. Next to him, Lilynette was yawning. Guilt, or what felt like it, appeared to have started gnawing at the teen's chest. Primera spoke just then, his gaze on Szayel,

"Aren't we pushing someone's patience here? You all think I'm nice and calm just because I'm lazy as fuck. But continue pushing and you'll see the other side of me. If you still can't get that through your skull, Octava, hands off the kid."

Defiantly, Szayel leaned back, propped both palms on the bed, heaved one leg atop the other and started swinging his foot rhythmically, completing a look of utter fascination. His smile served to tell Ichigo that Octava had a split personality disorder, otherwise the smile was simply a prelude to a most provoking remark which went like,

"Ichigo and I are actually busy, so why don't you two psycho losers mope over a fucking river, on some bridge preferably, throw yourselves off and just drown?"

How much growing up these three still had to do became apparent to Ichigo all at once. In fact, if he had got a dime for every manner of immaturity any of these Espada had so far demonstrated, he'd be a freaking millionaire. Cornered to the last and final point of his tolerance, he explained,

"Look, Szayel-san's been assaulted by an invisible force, which most likely was the devil itself. He's upset and, because I'm not a callous asshole, I had to calm him."

"Excuse me, but I _am _well over fucking upset, Shinigami. What do you propose we do about that?!" Grimmjow barked, outraged.

"Shut up, Sexta. You're not upset; I _am_." Starrk shoved Grimmjow aside before burrowing his gaze at Ichigo, "Kurosaki, she's back—Lilith—and I can't stand the freaking nightmares—"

"—Liar. Do you want me to fetch a damned toilet bowl? With all the bullshit spilling out of your mouth, a freaking water closet is the only damned thing that deserves to hear—"

"—gosh, you bitches are noisy." Szayel interrupted. Seconds later he propositioned Ichigo, "Wanna get a room somewhere?"

The teen's cheeks reddened furiously. It was a long time before he could look at another face without the urge to stare somewhere else. And of course, something like a volcanic eruption exploded off Sexta's lips,

"The fuck was that, Octava?! Kurosaki, don't you answer that with a 'yes'! Don't you fucking dare!"

"So noisy. Let's settle this, shall we not?" Starrk had unsheathed his Zanpakotou.

Moments later, three commands so seldom heard beneath the dome of Las Noches were being uttered all at once;

"Kick it, Los Lobos."

"Grind, Pantera."

"Engorge, Fornicaros."

At this point, Ichigo had to accept that he was experiencing life at a rate of maybe fifty frustrations per hour. And because he couldn't take it anymore, he stood up to scram. At the sight of his retreating figure, the three subdued, as if robbed of their mobility.

"Er, Kurosaki, where are ya going?" Grimmjow asked, completely sounding like he hadn't got anything to do with Ichigo's being unable to put up with anymore dumb shit.

"Somewhere; somewhere so far away from you patience-pushing sons of guns."

That shut them all up. Not only that; each of the three Espada had receded to his original form.

"B—but wait. We need to talk." Primera was almost pleading.

"Do shut up, Starrk. This is all your freaking fault. Unsheathing abruptly for no apparent reason; just what the hell was that all about?" Szayel demanded.

"Dude, you practically offered the boy sex!"

"Whatever."

But Ichigo had scooted away, annoyed beyond reckoning. To top it off, he was most pissed at himself for allowing himself to be seduced like that. Octava Espada was a sight to behold but in what amendment in any constitution did it say one had no right to resist beautiful people?

…

The next two days went on with scarcely any repose. The icons they had planted on corridors were repeatedly and mysteriously being shaken off their places. Ichigo had to wonder how effective the remedy they had been using was. On top of everything, taking Tercera Espada off his mind presented some real difficulty. Of late, the exposed skin on her torso, which was extensive by the way, had appeared to be suffering minor discoloration. Some mild medical condition might have explained it, but Halibel was a freaking Arrancar, therefore she had no business suffering a mundane malady. Due to that, Ichigo found his fist knocking on her door one day. It took him three sets of knocks to be ushered inside by Apache.

"Make it quick, Shinigami. Halibel-sama is in no mood to chat."

There wasn't any need for that. One look was all it took ascertain the truth in the Fraccion's warning. From Tercera's common room, she could be seen through the gaping door sitting desolately in front of the window, her back on them.

"She's been like that since yesterday." Sun-sun said to no one in particular.

Presently, Ichigo had no particular desire to approach Halibel, but also no particular reason not avoid doing so. He took a step forward, whereby he distinguished a faint reiatsu. Quinto's. But clearly Nnoitra Jiruga was not here as of the moment.

"Has Jiruga-san been here?"

"Not since yesterday." When Mila Rose answered, some evasive manner was all evident in her speech.

Ichigo began to wonder how much these Fracciones did and did not know. Jiruga's and Halibel's reiatsu could faintly be discerned, intertwined, but the quality boded something else; Jiruga had been sleeping here, in her bedchamber. Ichigo could sense it ever so faintly. More than that, some manner of serious intimacy seemed to have been regularly occurring here. On the onset, he had deduced Quinto was somehow attracted to Tercera, but had reciprocity ever been present? Halibel's icy and no-nonsense conduct obviously had served as an obstacle for the opposite sex to hit on her. Or maybe he just couldn't imagine someone as crude as Nnoitra winning Tercera over. His logic was simply against it. His gaze landed on her back, but before any further conclusion could be reached, a shapeless form caught his attention.

Cub-chan idled at the foot of her chair.

A gasp escaped his throat. His memory shored off to that one time when he, the six Espada, Lilynette and Tesla had attended a meeting where Cub-chan had showed up. The Tres Bestias hadn't been in attendance, hence the possibility of them knowing not a single horseshit about the devious nature of the cursed stuffed animal was huge. But then shouldn't have Halibel relayed the info to her trusted entourage? He was pretty sure Tercera wasn't a moron. As a matter of fact, Halibel was of the wiser type. By this time, the Tres Bestias had retired to their side of the suite, leaving him standing forlornly a few meters away from Tercera.

"Have you come to _fuck _me like what that praying mantis always does?" Came Tercera's voice, except that it _wasn't _her voice.

In fact, the words came in varying low octaves, as if at least three voices had spoken them all at once. At that, Ichigo's complexion paled to the point of an utter lack of color. First, he considered he must have been imagining it. Next, he tried to convince himself that getting scared shitless of an extra blunt question seemed out of proportion with his personality, and, hell yeah, he was going to haul his ass out of here. No matter what. He procured a step backward before he could be rendered completely rigid, mumbled some incoherent and obviously invented pretext at Apache as she came into view, and then zoomed out of the room.

Skipping steps to lord knew where, heedless like unruly children, he employed his godlike speed and was well nigh resorting to his Ban Kai for some extra boost in his acceleration. And then his crazy flight was brought to a halt when a mighty force rammed him from the side. Having been lurched sideway, he reached for support on the nearest wall.

Ulquiorra was closing in on him.

"What's with the haste, Kurosaki?" Cuatro inquired.

It took the Shinigami a couple of minutes to catch his breath, "You didn't have to knock me off like that. Anyway, Ulquiorra, listen to me: Quinto is fucking a demon!"

Ulquiorra saw nothing to lament in this info and was somewhat cool about it. As a fact, he rejoined with the straightest face ever to be seen on a head,

"Quinto fucks with anyone."

"No, you dumb—I mean—it's Halibel. Jiruga's been sleeping with Halibel-san."

"Hoax."

"Cuatro, do I look like I'm joking? Hell, why do I even bother?" Ichigo, resigned to anything now, gave up trying to explain. He gathered himself and decided to bid the other goodbye, "I'm heading off to Szayel's computers. Ciao."

"You can use mine. You all think Octava is the only one who has access to the internet. I do too, Kurosaki. And I also have a library. Yesterday I collected a number of volumes from the human world."

That was enough to satisfy the teen. In no time flat, Ichigo and Ulquiorra were immersing themselves in theological hardbacks and other volumes which dealt with paranormal cases, hardly ever stopping to rest. Ulquiorra's quarters were expansive, and the tasteful arrangements with which the pieces of furniture in his room were laid out made reading inviting. But not the environment, nor Ulquiorra's well-bred conduct was disposing Ichigo any better to the matter at hand. At length, Ichigo explained, never taking his eyes off the book,

"Halibel-san is possessed. That was what I was trying to say earlier. I wanted the Tres Bestias to run for their lives but it wouldn't seem right to leave their mistress alone."

Ulquiorra seemed unprepared to receive such ill news. And yet it wasn't the specifics in that news that was disconcerting him; it was Ichigo's behavior toward it. The boy seemed deeply concerned about their well-being, and to testify that, the agitation registering on his face was as sincere as any other. Cuatro could not explain it, but the thing that was drawing him toward the Shinigami was most likely one of those inexplicable forces in life. _Is this the doing of a heart?_, was the question ringing in his skull. And so he took the seat at Ichigo's side.

"You're beating yourself up?"

"Not really. It's just that I really wish to help Tercera."

"May I suggest you don't overexert yourself?"

"Ulquiorra, let's face it; you won't find anyone else in the whole galaxy who would put up with half the shit I'm putting up with here."

Over the table, Ulquiorra's hand graced his. All at once, Ichigo was struck by the futility of fighting against the admiration which had been tugging at him ever since he had sat down. On his own accord, Cuatro had amassed reading materials which would no doubt be of some use to their current circumstances. It wouldn't take a genius to presume this dude to be the most dependable one among his comrades. In fact, he easily reminded Ichigo of their school's president of the students' council, on whom he had a huge crush. But while that girl was friendly and quite a chatterbox, Ulquiorra was just the straight out opposite. Nevertheless, they seemed to give off the same glow.

Just like that, with the feel of the Espada's hand on his, Ichigo started seeing Ulquiorra for what he truly was; a white dove trooping with ravens. Of course, there had been times in the past week where he had exhibited immature competitiveness, but not once in any occasion had his composure been lost. Indeed, the depths of his green eyes now revealed nothing of the animosity and derision he had received one and a half years ago during their deadly clash inside Aizen's stupid throne room. Somehow, he was feeling a sort of gratitude for Inoue Orihime and Kisuke Urahara for bringing this Espada back to life, when at that time a million hesitating protests and concessions had escaped his mouth. In fact, Ichigo had behaved like a schizo.

"_Kurosaki-kun, we may have some future use of him." Kisuke had said._

"_But, but…"_

"_When he disintegrated to dusts at that time, you were trying to call him back, remember?" Inoue had asked._

Ichigo had tried to call him back under the belief that Cuatro had died unjustly, without a fight. Their match had not been conducted on equal grounds; Ulquiorra had been thrashed by the mysterious Hollow inside Ichigo. For days, this knowledge had gone on to eat him whole, until Urahara had knocked on his window, proposing a certain procedure. And hence now…

At this point, their faces were gradually extinguishing the distance separating them. While it happened, Kurosaki Ichigo was becoming aware of a very potent conviction, that in another era and in a faraway land, he could've fallen in love with Ulquiorra Cifer. Hard.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Subjugation

All conversation seemed at an end. At uneven intervals, their breaths were exerted, and before long their eyes started to close on their own. Ulquiorra leaned in ever so slowly, as if he were relishing the moment or dreading it—possibly both. On the other hand, Ichigo, the ever so servile slave of his own impulses, was going to be kissed for the first time.

Not.

Three individuals had jostled inside Ulquiorra's library. So first things first; Grimmjow's face had gone as white as his attire. Szayel was gaping, aghast. In either case, a profound antipathy toward Cuatro was being channeled. But Starrk, apart from the two, had this apathetic air about him, as if the sight stirred no commotion in any corner of his soul.

"Cuatro, my Espada Kills record is clean should you disregard Luppi, but continue acting like a dumb shit this way and it may not stay clean for long." Sexta's words squeezed their way through clenched teeth.

"So the most trustworthy Espada, after all, has no honor whatsoever. I'm not going to wait for an explanation, Ulquiorra; three out of the five people in the room suggest you drop dead." was Szayel's input.

"Kurosaki here abhors death threats, buffoons. If possible, go reserve your creative threats for some future use. Who knows, you might just be in need of some lovely suicide sooner or later." Ulquiorra retaliated.

"I'm sure that piece of advice is just what Gimmjow needs." Szayel said.

"You're siding with this lump of emo trash, Octava? Well, killing two birds with one stone has always been my forte."

"Oh, spare me. If you kill me, Ichigo-chan _won't _ever forgive you." Szayel contented himself with this, plus a gorgeous grin, whereas Sexta had taken it as Octava's final answer to his death invite.

"Believe me, Kurosaki doesn't have to know, which goes to say I might just be the most experienced and efficient murderer you've ever seen. In fact, I can fucking rip your heart out, cut you to pieces, burn you to cinders and then make it look like a fucking teddy bear with buttons for eyes has done it. How's that?" Sexta threatened.

"Well, if the teddy bear in question is your Cub-chan it might just do the killing for you. To be honest, rearing demon stuffed animals doesn't make for a pleasing characteristic." Cuatro observed. Grimmjow had reached his limit by then,

"Fuck you. Cub-chan is a fucking jaguar—not a bear. Get your facts straight, Mr. Righteous Hypocrite. Besides, she's simply being used and is therefore hardly homicidal on her own right. Duh."

Through all this, Starrk remained unmoved, his behavior suggesting either indifference or boredom. By this time, Ichigo's attempts at giving another damn to this infantile warfare was failing one after another. With his thoughts gathered, he scooped three of the books from the table before bustling away, leaving the noise and its source behind. But after getting used to the going-around's in Las Noches, he was about half sure this peace was anything but long-lived. As a testament to that, Primera Espada had now turned to his heels to follow him out,

"Coyote Starrk, leave Kurosaki alone." Ulquiorra was heard saying.

"You three will stay here and will do nothing to give him more headache. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, making that kind of dirt-throwing ruckus right in his face."

"Who the fuck do you think you are, Primera?"

"You've just answered your own question, Sexta; I am _the _Primera Espada."

That ended the onslaught. Throughout his stay here, Ichigo had never witnessed Starrk use his rank as a means to gain authority over anything, until this very moment. When it came down to it, Primera appeared to be the most fearsome among them. He had this brooding angst about him, which made him seem more terrible than if his mouth had been spouting realistic threats. And now he was trailing the Shinigami. The look on his face promised nothing, except perhaps that he wished to talk. Upon rendering themselves out of earshot,

"Need anything, Starrk?" Ichigo inquired.

"Are you ok?"

"Of course."

"Sorry about that. I didn't think Cuatro had a visitor."

"Oh, you meant to use his library?"

"Yeah, for a nap. If you didn't know yet, Sexta, Octava, Lilynette and I have taken shelter under Cuatro's hospitality—in his library. Our respective rooms have been driving us nuts and we have nowhere else to go."

The information made Ichigo feel a pang of pity, but he could not help but say something utterly different,

"Starrk, have the articles been working? I mean the rosary and the others?"

Primera heaved a sigh, "Initially. A few days later the cross thing I stationed on the table started to topple down on their own, after which the nightmares came back. They're horrible."

"I can imagine."

"No, Shinigami, you don't know the half of it."

Slightly offended, Ichigo furrowed his brows, "I kinda do."

"Anyway, I didn't chase you for my personal struggle. Are you busy?"

"Yes. And now that reminds me of something; didn't I ask you and the others to lock Cub-chan—Grimmjow's stuffed toy—somewhere safe?"

"Cuatro and I nailed her shut in Aizen's old throne room. Is there a problem?"

Now didn't appear to be the perfect time to elaborate, as Tercera's condition was, if anything, a race against time. Accordingly, Ichigo dismissed the issue,

"No worries. As I was saying, I'm off to sort things out. Do you wanna help?"

"I do, but I meant to tell you Quinto is in deep shit."

Ichigo froze, because he damn well knew that 'deep shit' hardly was sufficient to refer to Nnoitra's situation now. Nnoitora Jiruga had, of late, been sleeping with Tia Halibel who under normal circumstances would not have engaged in something like that. In short, Tercera had been possessed by the devil, and hence Quinto, by conversion, is sleeping with the devil.

But time and again Starrk's gentle manners would force themselves in his attention. As if that wasn't enough, Primera's fingers were now circled around his wrist. Seconds later they were whisking past hallways, without Ichigo understanding why he had allowed himself to be dragged. They paused just outside Jiruga's room. There were ghoulish, bordering on animalistic sounds issuing from within, but what made Ichigo's blood run cold was hardly even that; Tercera's reiatsu could be recognized with barely an effort.

"Halibel-san is inside Jiruga's room." The teen murmured.

Starrk frowned, his voice laced with disappointment, "Man, looks like we've come at the wrong time. These two are having the time of their lives, aren't they?"

"Starrk, look at me. Why did you bring me here?"

"For Quinto's sake. Tesla told me his master has been making strange noises at night. But then I was also told that he and Tercera have been spending nights together. Then again, there's now way I would've believed Halibel likes it wild in bed. In the end, I figured Quinto and I have, all along, been suffering the attacks of a single assailant-Lilith."

"Wrong. Don't you get it? Halibel-san is doing that to him; not a succubus. She's under the influence of the devil!"

Incidentally the door broke open, slowly, and so Ichigo had to shudder, repulsed. He didn't know it yet, but later on he never would recall the sight that would greet them without the corresponding agonizing pangs of terror. In the meantime, he took a step forward by impulse, only to be pulled back by Starrk.

"I'll go in first. You stay behind me. Stay close." Primera's voice did not indicate genuine concern, but his actions did.

Ichigo followed him inside, his senses strained to the utmost, when the sounds ceased. The sounds ceased to allow for a sight of utter vulgarity. For a split second, he caught a glimpse of Quinto Espada lying on his back on the bed, his upper body bare. Tercera Espada, sporting her Ressureccion form, was sitting over him. Neither of them was entirely naked, and yet it also didn't look like they were avoiding pregnancy. Eventually, Starrk's palm came to block his vision.

"Wha—"

"—don't look, Ichigo."

It was the first time Starrk called him by his first name, but that did not prevent the teen from trying to pry the other's hand from his eyes. Try he did, only to be caught confounded by the next voice that shot across the room,

"An audience, _we _presume. Come."

Three male voices, all deep, remote and soul-shaking. Without having to grope around for clues, Ichigo deduced it had been Halibel who had spoken. Dumbfounded by the same source, Starrk let his hand fall off Ichigo's face. And now maybe the teen was wishing Starrk hadn't done that, because Tercera had now bent over backward to face them. With her face upside down, it was as gruesome a sight like nothing else. Ichigo had to gasp, and to huddle close to his companion.

"Screw you. Let go of Nnoitra." Primera commanded.

"As you wish." The demons inside her spoke.

True to her word, Halibel alighted from the bed, her eyes glowing in the dark. There was a hush of expectation, until Ichigo and Starrk rushed to where Jiruga was, all the while not taking their eyes off the demons' host. She was watching them with fascination. Jiruga then let himself be led away by Starrk.

"Damn. I've been a moron, haven't I?" Quinto asked Primera feebly.

"Dumbass is the right way to put it. Can't you see trouble when you see one? This one has almost swallowed you whole."

The sounds the two male Espada were making interfered but little with the gazes Ichigo and the possessed Halibel were exchanging. The teen asked,

"What is your name?"

"If we tell you, boy, what happens next? You, a nonbeliever, performing an expulsion rite on me?"

_How the fuck did they know that? _Was the question Ichigo asked himself. But then the devil had always known a lot of things. Even so, there remained a remote chance for him to make this work. If books could be relied upon, anyone could perform what was called a 'Prayer for Deliverance'. Despite this knowledge, he allowed his fear to guide the motions of his legs, so that he was now backing away. His retreat reached its end when Starrk placed an arm around his shoulder. It comforted him big time, somehow.

"Maybe. I've just realized just now that not a devil like you would fuck this place up along with the people in it. I happen to know how to pull what humans call a Prayer for Deliverance, so if you could fuck off now none of us are in deep shit." Because he was more cocky than he was intelligent, this was what the Shinigami said.

The possessed Tercera hissed violently, her breaths coming in short. She paced to and fro, moving evenly for a few lengths, before making an abrupt movement as she plunged forward right before the teen, who didn't flinch.

"Would you like a bargain?"

"With the devil? No, thanks." Ichigo answered, and cast a sidelong glance at Starrk, who was holding him still in what looked like an attempt to bring themselves closer. The Shinigami continued, "Starrk, Jiruga-san, let's tie this bitch up that chair over there. We'll use the fabrics around this room and get this fucking show on the road."

The scene that followed was infused with the ghastliest obscenities and spoken blasphemies. The struggle lasted for only a few minutes, resulting in gashes upon the males' Hakama and droplets of blood falling on the floor. The whole of this wasn't only similar to movie scenes he had watched; it was nearly identical. Surely, this development had drawn clear lines from which there was no departing. Now secured on the chair, Halibel trashed around, and said to Ichigo,

"I will relinquish the woman in peace if you offer yourself, human boy."

The offer sounded more horrific than if mountains had moved out of their places. As it was, they were left mortified. Just then, Starrk once again pulled the teen to him. He answered with insolence,

"You'll have to go through me first."

But the next voice to be heard belonged neither to Ichigo nor to the devil; the three other Espada and Tesla had entered. The spectacle they had arrived into did not seem to interest Sexta, so when he spoke next his ignorance about the urgency of the matter became apparent all at once,

"Strike #4 for you, Starrk. There's no holding back now; I've been nice long enough and this is how you acknowledge my effort? By sticking to Kurosaki like his fucking Siamese twin?"

"You call that nice? If any of your dazzling death threats had half worked I would have been kicking buckets a million times over, don't you think? At any rate, let's skip that for now. We've got company." Starrk retorted. He gestured at the female Espada, who was now making violent attempts to escape her own captivity.

"Holy crap! See, I told you she's been going under some weird shit!" Szayel shrieked upon drawing near Tercera.

At that, Halibel expelled from her mouth something which was none other than vomit. It was aimed at Octava, who ducked just in time to end up flinging himself to Ichigo. With Starrk's arm flying away from the teen's shoulder, Szayel took the liberty of burying his face on Ichigo's chest.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Grimmjow cried out, marching toward Octava.

Just so to placate Sexta, and for that alone, Ichigo gently pulled himself away from Octava, and that seemed to be enough to restrain Grimmjow. Ichigo said,

"Okay, Grimmjow, if I stayed away from Szayel-san would that make you feel better and help us out here?"

"Better? Not sure. I probably will require tea, a nice couch to sit my ass on, a massage, Mr. Pink Faggot dropping dead and then I'll be just fine."

"I will need your cooperation—" Ichigo was cut short when Szayel started to tug on his sleeves and to comment,

"Ichigo-chan, your kimono is all sweaty. Let's rid you of that."

"Not now—"

"—looks like your Hakama is drenched too. Come on, take those off."

"And what would be left, pray tell? His undergarments?" It was Ulquiorra who asked, as Starrk had been too scandalized by Szayel's suggestion. Grimmjow seemed to be mulling it over, but not a second later would he come to deduce it was a genius suggestion by Szayel.

"Who cares?" Szayel snapped at Ulquiorra irritably.

"Yeah, who cares?" Grimmjow blurted aloud before he could stop himself.

No sooner than Grimmjow had finished talking did he and Szayel start to yank Ichigo's garments from him without exercising the least of subtlety.

"Grimmjow! Szayel-san!" The teen boomed. Sexta and Octava withdrew their hands from Ichigo, whose facial expression now fell on the type which would appeal to only a very few people, and that did not include any of the Espada. Having gathered their attention, he spat, "Has anyone seen the last drop of my fucking patience? Oh, wait, you two imbeciles are sucking on it. Hard."

"…"

"…"

"To continue," Ichigo resumed, now much calmer but rest assured more stern, his eyes on Halibel, "we will expel an entrenched demon from Tercera Espada. Now."

TBC


End file.
